


La Vie En Rose

by Astridlover22



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-09 13:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1985433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astridlover22/pseuds/Astridlover22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story is a take on "Sabrina" the 1954 film starring Audrey Hepburn, William Holden, and Humphrey Bogart.  I recommend you watch it! Anyways, this has to be AU, Sherlock is David, Mycroft is Linus, and obviously Molly is Sabrina.  Please leave notes of what you think!  Its just my take on already fleshed out universes.  I own nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Once upon a time

Chapter 1

For as long as she could remember, Molly Hooper lived in the apartment above the garage of the Holmes family.  Her father was the chauffeur, and had been driving the elder Holmes and later the son to and from the city of London for the past age it felt like.   Her father was a tall regal man.  He was focused, quiet and cared for only a few things.  His job and his daughter were the two most important things in his life.  Having lost his wife so young, he held on to Molly as tight as he could.   He knew that his daughter Molly was a smart motivated girl, but she did have a silly side to her.  She had a crush the size of Big Ben, on the Holmes youngest son, Sherlock.  She fawned over him ever since she first laid eyes on him.  She would climb up on the tree overlooking the terrace, and watch the Holmes host fabulous dinner parties.  They would mingle with the most powerful people in Britain, but his daughter had only eyes for one person. 

Sherlock was a temperamental child, and had turned into sullen young man.  Even though his family had provided him with every material thing a child would want or need, he rebelled by gaining a nasty cocaine addiction.  It was his brother Mycroft that was finally able to turn him around.  Mycroft allowed his brother to continue his silly detective business, and even though Mycroft thought it wasn’t a real profession, it kept him off the street and away from the drugs that threatened to ruin him.

Now, Molly Hooper, the mousy young lady went to school and was on track to become a doctor of pathology.  Her father couldn’t be more proud; she had been studying at the Sorbonne, and was as far away from the Holmes estate and Sherlock as she could be.  He had hoped she had gotten over her crush on Sherlock Holmes, but much to his chagrin she had not.  Her letters and emails all started out well, asking him about the other staff, and the weather.  But each letter never failed to include a query about how Sherlock was doing.  He tried to keep his answers about Sherlock brief, but she continued to ask.  This is where the story starts.

Molly was finally coming home to visit her father before starting a new job at St. Bart’s, as the assistant to the coroner.  She was excited to see her father, the estate and of course Sherlock.  She wondered in the back of her mind, did Sherlock even notice she was gone?  He had hardly ever acknowledged her presence when they were together.  She always stuttered and blushed in his presence, but now she had much more confidence. 

She waited at the train station outside of Wimbledon waiting for her father to come pick her up when she spied a tall handsome man on the other side of the street. Her breath caught knowing only one person to have that distinct silhouette.  His coat collar was turned up and was looking right at her.  She waved to him for a second before feeling silly and pulled her hand down.  To her horror though, he seemed to make not sign of recognition.  He almost looked surprised that she was waving at him in the first place.  It was a matter of a few seconds that he crossed the street and was face to face with her. 

“I thought I knew everyone in this infernal suburb.  But I do not know you.  I see you have just come from Paris, and are waiting for someone.  Perhaps someone that I know?”

She nodded at him.

“I see well, in that case, may I be of assistance to you? Perhaps I could give you a lift to your destination?”  
“That would be lovely,” she said to him before gathering her bags.  
“Let me take those” he said swiftly and took the bags from her hands and easily tossed them over his shoulder.

“This way” he said pointing to a Jaguar convertible with the top down.  She smiled to herself; he had no idea who she was, which was a shock, since he knew everything. 

Sherlock was in everyone’s business.  Sometimes it caused a huge problem with the staff and his family.  Molly’s father told her that he was too nosey for his own good, but Molly was always so impressed.  He could sniff out any affairs between the staff, or where the missing bottles of sherry went.  Much to Sherlock’s own father’s chagrin, he had informed his mother that his father was in fact sleeping with the scullery maid.  This caused a major strife in the house, and the Holmes estate never recovered from it.  His father was hardly around.  Molly’s father drove him into town earlier and earlier, and sometimes he didn’t even go fetch him that night.  Once the transgressions began for Sherlock’s father, they never ended.  His mother turned to the drink.  She began drinking by noon, and asleep by supper.  The only time his family came together was when his parents hosted large parties.  The Holmes family would plaster smiles on their faces and act like a happy family.  It was always so painful when the parties were over, and his parents stalked off to their separate wings of the house.  When he was younger, he and his brother, Mycroft, recapped the night’s events.  Who was dancing with whom, which world leaders were in attendance, the quality of the music and food were all discussed under a large set of trees on the estate.  It was their own time together, and Sherlock realized that the only person in his family that he could rely on was his brother.  Although Mycroft looked after him, he could never really control him. Sherlock knew that Mycroft took pity on him, and he exploited it every chance he could.  But when it a calm evening, he sometimes found himself under the trees conferring with Mycroft about life.

Mycroft Holmes was a child genius.  From the moment he learned what negotiation was he was doing it.  Whether he was negotiating with other children for a better lunch or negotiating when his bedtime was, he always won.  Once he was old enough, he joined his father at Westminster running the British government.  He soon even eclipsed his father, and was the head of the government.  A first class manipulator and controller caused him to have no one in his life.  And he didn’t care; he was so busy with running the country.  He had to be in control of everything.  He was able to manipulate every person he met except one.  Sherlock.  After his family broke up, he was responsible for the well being of his dear brother.  He found that he was unable to negotiate anything with Sherlock.  It may have been because he felt sorry for his little brother.  When he was younger, he remembered how his family was.  They were happy. He remembered those times vividly, where Sherlock only had memories of his mother drunk and his father gone.  The only pressure point that he had was his baby brother.

“So where can I drop you off at?” Sherlock asked her as he started the car.  
“You can drive me home”  
“Where do you live?” Sherlock asked her after not finding any tags on her bags when he put them in the car.  
“Dosoris Lane”

Sherlock’s head tilted to the side slightly, “Dosoris Lane? That’s where I live”  
“Really?” Molly asked smiling slightly, at him. She was so enjoying this.

“Yes.  We must be neighbors then” Sherlock said to her eyeing her keenly now.  He definitely knew everyone that lived on his street. 

“Have you always lived here?” Sherlock asked trying to deduce who she was.

“Most of my life” Molly responded her smile growing more as Sherlock tried to figure out who she was.  
“I thought I knew every beautiful woman who lived in Wimbledon” Sherlock responded, shading a bit.  
“You take in more territory than that” Molly responded positively gleeful.  He thought she was beautiful; her insides were playing a conga.

Sherlock glared at her, “This is infuriating! How can I not know?  Wait, are you the daughter of the Lord Speaker, Diane?”  
“Hardly”

“Argh!” Sherlock huffed as he began to glare at her trying to deduce something from her face.    
“This driveway” Molly suddenly told him as they approached the Holmes estate.

“Impossible” Sherlock said, “This is where I live”  
“Hi neighbor!” Molly replied.

“Wait how do I not…” Sherlock was cut off though, by his brother.  
“Molly!” Mycroft said waving to her while she was getting out of the car. “You are all grown up. Done with the Sorbonne, I see. Ready to come back to England?”  
“Hello Mycroft, yes I’m back,” Molly answered blushing now that her secret was revealed.

“Molly Hooper!” Sherlock practically yelled in shock.

 


	2. There lived a small girl  on a large estate.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is another build up before the party. I promise the next one will have more humor and action. But got to get some more background! Keep in mind this is a Sabrina story but with a Sherlock twist. Sometimes its hard to write Sherlock as David. But I'm trying!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, thank you guys for all your comments! I'm starting to get nervous!! 
> 
>  
> 
> Also I don't own anything but the thoughts in my head :) Cheers!

Chapter 2

“Yes, Sherlock, don’t you remember Molly Hooper? ” Mycroft said rolling his eyes.

“Of course I remember her who she is, Mycroft, I’m not an idiot” Sherlock replied defiantly.  “It just took me a bit longer to deduce it! It has been so long. The last time I saw her, her hair was…” Sherlock paused and eyed Molly as slyly as he could, “longer.”  
“You are losing your touch, dear brother.” Mycroft responded before tipping his hat towards Molly and opening the car door.  
“Off to the office again Mycroft?” Sherlock sneered at his workaholic brother.  
“Obviously”  
“On a Sunday?”  
“Oh brother mine, it is Wednesday.  Some of us have actual jobs and duties to attend to, not made up careers to fill whatever fancies us.”  
“Yes, and wars don’t start themselves do they, Mycroft,” Sherlock retorted back before turning his attention back to Molly.

Mycroft got into the car, and tapped the window allowing Molly’s father to begin the journey into London. He picked up his phone and called his assistant, for the daily morning status.

“Hello”, he paused for a moment to remember her code name this week, “Anthea. How are things going in the Baltics? Are we set up for the next mission?”  
“Yes, sir.  Everything is set up.”  
“Good, and the status in North Korea?”  
“Holding steady sir”  
“Good.  Keep an eye on the surveillance on the target as well.  I will be in the office in 42 minutes, based on the traffic reports.”  
“Very good, sir”

Mycroft hung up and began perusing his normal set of newspapers ranging from the Washington Post to St. Petersburg Times. He was very aware of eyes on him from the front of the car.

“How did Molly’s studies abroad go, Hooper?” Mycroft asked him as he continued to page through the papers.  
“She loves him still,” Hooper said to his employer. He was so overwhelmed by the events that had just happened, that he didn’t censor his response. The way Sherlock was looking at his daughter made him very uneasy.  Hooper had seen women come and go at the Holmes estate, mostly for their father, but every still.  The apple never falls far from the tree.   
“Beg your pardon?” Mycroft said his eyes flashing forward at his driver, unsure if he heard correctly.  
“She loved the program, thank you again for your recommendations. She is very excited to start working at St. Bartholomew’s.” Hooper responded trying to fix his last response. “And she will get over it” he added.

“Right” Mycroft responded, unsure of how to handle that answer, “it was no problem giving her a recommendation. She was always very studious, from what I saw growing up.”

Mycroft stared out the window. How untimely Molly’s return was to the small island of Britain.  Sherlock was now engaged to a Janine Hawkins, a personal assistant to the media mogul Charles August Magnussen.   Sherlock had been investigating Magnussen for months, trying to find ways into the barracks of that serpent.  Appledore was one of the few places neither Holmes man had ever breached.  Mycroft had tried with all of his powers to get at least a floor plan of the highly secretive abode, but alas he was unable to.  Now with Sherlock on the tail of Magnussen, Mycroft was on high alert.  You didn’t become a media mogul by playing by the rules.  He hoped that he could protect his baby brother, while keeping the peace with the largest media mogul in the country.  Technically Magnussen was under his protection.  But he hated that man, and was in debt to no one.  The only person, who had control over him, was himself. And Sherlock. Always.

“Molly, what are you doing this evening?” Sherlock asked her as he pulled out her luggage from the boot of the car.  
“I don’t know quite yet, I was hoping to catch up with everyone here. Tomorrow I have to go into the city to take care of a few things before my job starts.”  
“Well if you aren’t busy, would you accompany me to a dinner party here tonight?”  
“A true Holmes party?” Molly asked trying to hide her excitement.  
“Yes?” Sherlock said unsure what that really meant.  
“I’ve attended a lot of those parties, you know” she responded looking in the general direction of the terraces on the estate.  
“Really?” Sherlock said surprised, he had no memories of her attending any of these parties.  But then again, she never seemed to cross his mind, until now that is.  She was clouding all of his sense, which had never happened to him before.  
Molly giggled slightly, “Yes from this tree.”

She walked over to a large oak tree that sat between the garage and the main part of the estate.  
“I watched from right here.” She pointed to a large v, where the branches split.  
“Oh, how could I not noticed you, Molly Hooper?” Sherlock lamented slightly.  
“I didn’t matter,” she said shrugging at him, her smile not faltering at all. It wasn’t said out of pity, but out of truth. She knew in the realms of the Holmes boys, she was never of any significance.  She had grown up right next to the two boys, but it felt like a world away.

“You matter.  You matter now” Sherlock said decisively before leaning down and kissing her on the cheek, “say you will come tonight.”  He asked breathlessly peering into her brown eyes, which became so bright after his kiss.  
“Of course!” Molly answered probably too quickly, but her face was already flushed.  
“Well until then” Sherlock gave her a little bow before walking back towards the estate, his step seemed to have a bit of a skip to it now.

 _ **Don’t forget about your betrothed, dear brother -MH**  
_ Sherlock rolled his eyes when he read the text from his brother.  
 _ **Get your abnormally large nose out of my busines** s -SH  
_Sherlock responded quickly before going inside to speak with the caterers. He needed to ensure that the evening would go off without a hitch, and that Molly would truly experience a Holmes party at its peak.  Even though he had invited Janine as well, he was confident that he could pull it off. He been in much stickier situations.  
 __  
 **John, please make sure Mary comes to the party tonight. -SH**  
 **Of course she is, but what is going on? – JW**  
 **Need someone to keep Janine busy –SH**  
 **Why? –JW**  
 **You ask too many questions –SH**

John sighed as he locked his phone, “Mary, looks like Sir Sherlock Holmes is in need of your assistance for god knows what.”

 


	3. The estate was very large indeed and had many servants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the party scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything. Leave any comments, I love to hear what you think

Chapter 3

Molly danced around her childhood room; she was going to a Holmes party.  An actual invitation was a fantasy come true for her.   She dreamed that one day, she would catch Sherlock’s eye and he would invite her to an evening on the estate.  Champagne, hors d'oeuvre, twinkling lights drawn around the terrace, and Sherlock dressed smartly in a tux.  This was everything she imagined and more.  She knew that Sherlock was seeing her for the first time, or at least in a new light.  She perused through her closet, and found a dress she splurged on in Paris, a gown that she thought she would never wear but had to have.  Though she dressed mostly in fuzzy sweaters and button downs, she did love fashion.  She was also pragmatic, being a scientist didn’t really allow her to wear anything fancy, it would just get in the way.   The dress was gorgeous, and it made her look and feel like Princess Grace.  After showering and getting her hair ready, she put the dress on.  The strapless dress fell perfect down to the ground, the longer train in the back was a few inches past her, making her look like she was floating on air.  As she admired herself in the mirror, she mindlessly stroked her neck.  The bareness of it pulled at her heart.  A little girl needs her mother’s pearls, she thought to herself.    She heard a little cough and saw Mrs. Fairchild, the head housemaid in the doorway.

“You look lovely, my child” Mrs. Fairchild told Molly, “a spitting image of your mother.”  Molly beamed at her, Mrs. Fairchild, was the closest thing she had to mother.   
“I have something for you,” Mrs. Fairchild said, as she pulled a box from behind her back, “your father would have a small batch of kittens if he knew I was giving this to you, but it can be our little secret.”

Molly bounded over to her and took the box in her hands; she opened it slowly to find the most beautiful necklace she had ever laid eyes on.    
“It was my mothers,” Mrs. Fairchild told her, “and I always thought of you as a daughter.  I want you to have this.”

Molly looked up at her in astonishment, “I couldn’t accept this, don’t you want it for your family?”  
“My dearest child, you are my family,” she said as she placed her hand gently on her cheek, “You have made me more proud than I could ever imagine, and I know you will be the belle of the ball tonight.”   
Molly could only nod, finding it impossible to find the right words.  She watched as Mrs. Fairchild put the necklace on her.   
“It’s perfect” Molly whispered breathlessly, her hands shadowing over the exquisite orbs that lined her neck.  
“Lovely” Mrs. Fairchild told her from behind, watching both of them in the floor length mirror, “every girl needs a piece of jewelry that has a story.  This was my mother’s, and she brought it with her when she emigrated from Poland, many many years ago.”

“Thank you so much” Molly hugged her trying to keep her tears from spilling down and ruining her makeup.   
“You are very welcome, you deserve everything that you receive.”  
  
Molly watched as Mrs. Fairchild left the room and glanced at the clock, it was nearly time for the party.  She took a few deep breaths and walked down the stairs of the apartment towards the Holmes estate.

 

“What is your game plan, dear brother?” Mycroft said as he leaned up against his brother’s bedroom door.  He watched as Sherlock tied his bowtie with great concentration, when he saw Sherlock unable to get the bowtie just right, he huffed over to help him.  
“What do you mean? Don’t you have something better to do than hover over me?” Sherlock asked annoyed as he watched Mycroft tie the bow perfectly on the first try.  
“You know exactly what I mean, Miss Hooper and Miss Hawkins; Miss Hawkins keeps an eye on you like a hawk.  How will you keep your two girls happy?”  
“I will handle it, Mycroft.”  
“I’m sure you will” Mycroft said loftily before straightening his own bow tie and heading down to the gardens.  The party had already begun, but being very busy and important, he had to arrive late.

 

“Mary, can you believe how beautiful the lights are” Janine said as she walked into the gardens with John and Mary.   
“It is quite beautiful, even more than usual.” Mary said looking around and saw that everything seemed to be sparkling a little brighter.  
“Something doesn’t seem right,” John whispered to Mary, he sensed something was wrong.  The parties always had a stale feel to them, and today it was different.  
“What was that John?” Janine asked.

“I asked if you ladies would like a drink?” John asked before giving Mary a wink.  
“I’d love a glass of champagne,” Janine told him.  
“I’ll have one too,” Mary said before leading Janine towards a set of chairs near the band.  
  
John wandered over to the buffet tables to find two glasses of champagne.  He would bring over the glasses first before getting his own glass of scotch.  In the corner of his eye, he saw a group of men congregating near the gates of the party.  He wandered over to find them all trying to chat up a beautiful brunette, who had just arrived.  He had never seen her before, but he saw why the men were so enamored.  She was quite beautiful.  He nodded his head with approval, when he saw her ignore every single suitor.  Smart girl, he thought before walking over to his girl and Janine.

“Your drinks my ladies” John said, “I’m going to get myself a drink and see where Sherlock is.”  
  
John wandered off to the house and found Sherlock was standing in the door watching the gaggle of men.  
“Do you know that girl?” John asked as he stood next to his best friend.  
“Yes” Sherlock answered and when John peered at him wanting to know more, he stayed silent.  
“And how do you know her?” John prompted.  
“She is the chauffer’s daughter” Sherlock responded dryly before wandering off towards the crowd of guys.

“Thank you gentleman” Sherlock told the men surrounding Molly, and they began to scatter knowing not to mess with the host of the party.  
“Sherlock!” Molly said her eyes beaming at him, “you look very handsome.”  
“And as do you” Sherlock said before stuttering, “I mean you look beautiful.  Would you like to dance?”  He offered his arm towards here.  
“I would love to” Molly said breathlessly, her heart was skipping as he led her to the dance floor.

“I would recommend some sort of diversion,” Mycroft said as he stealthily slid up next to John.  
“Jesus, Mycroft.” John said holding his chest in surprise.  
“Sorry” Mycroft replied not sounding sorry at all. “But Dr. Watson, I would recommend a diversion”  
Mycroft rolled his eyes before walking over to Janine and Mary himself.  He wasn’t wasting hundreds of hours of surveillance and money because of Sherlock’s carelessness or his, gag, feelings.

“Miss Hawkins, would you do me the pleasure,” Mycroft asked offering his hand to her.  
“Oh” Janine looked a little surprised, “I was waiting for Sherlock, have you seen him?”  
“He is going to be late” Mycroft replied and offered his hand again, which she took.  They danced as far away from Sherlock as Mycroft possibly could.  
“Where is he?” Janine asked trying to look around the party, but Mycroft craftily spun her around not allowing her to eye the couple dancing on the other side of the floor.

Sherlock held Molly as close to him as possible.  They waltzed to the songs played by the band, and Molly felt like she was suspended above the ground.  They were dancing so close to each other, that Molly thought he could feel her heart pounding.  This dance was much better than anything she had ever envisioned.

“Molly, if I had only known.” Sherlock lamented as he twirled her around, not parting from her cheek once.  
“Molly, where have you been all my life?” Sherlock queried, there was such longing in his voice.   
“The consulting detective, not knowing something?” Molly asked giggling, “You know everything, I thought you knew I was up there in that tree.  I thought you knew about the horrible crush I had on you.”

Sherlock shook his head, “I did, but I ignored it.”  He paused, “its not too late is it?”  
Molly shook her head, she didn’t know if this night could get any better.  
“Molly, can you meet…”  
“You… by the tennis courts?” Molly finished his question for him.   
Sherlock looked surprised at her before breaking out a grin so wide, she was surprised his face didn’t crack.  
“And you will bring the champagne?” she asked.  
“Molly, you saw and awful lot from that tree.” Sherlock chuckled as he parted from her cheek.

Molly smiled to herself; she had to catch her breath.  She then started to walk as slowly as she could manage towards the tennis courts.  
  
“Oh my goodness, Tom!  You should see her!” Mrs. Fairchild told Mr. Hooper and the other Holmes staff members.  
“I don’t like it” Tom responded.  He sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee.  He had to keep awake in order to take guests home.   
“Don’t be like that, she belongs out there.”  
“I still don’t like it” Tom replied stonily.   
“She does.  This is what she wants” Mrs. Fairchild said annoyed at his petulance, “you should be happy for her.”   
“She doesn’t belong above the garage, but she doesn’t belong out there either.” Tom responded as he took another sip of the hot coffee.  
  


Sherlock wandered over to the buffet table. “I’ll take a bottle of the champagne and two glasses,” he told the bartender.  Placing the two glasses in his back pockets, he whistled while he read the champagne label.  It would more than do. He turned to go towards the tennis courts when he saw his annoying brother approach him.  
  
“Ah brother, I see you are having a good time.” Mycroft commented to his brother.    
“And I see you can’t seem to keep out of my business.  Bored fighting the Russians?”  
“Janine has been asking for you,” Mycroft replied ignoring his baby brother’s rude comments.   
“Right.  You can take care of that” Sherlock responded as he perused the crowd and felt triumphant when he saw Molly disappearing off near the tennis courts.  
  
“Either way, Father wants to have a word.” Mycroft told him pointedly to get his attention.  
“What?” Sherlock asked surprised.  He couldn’t remember the last time he actually had a one-on-one conversation with his father.  
“In the drawing room, Sherlock” Mycroft said and Sherlock sighed.  Although he was the world’s only consulting detective, and Mycroft was the British government, they never ever denied a request from their parents.   Sherlock walked into the house and found his father waiting at the entrance of the drawing room.  Mycroft was right behind him, and although they didn’t get along, Sherlock was relieved to have Mycroft by his side.

“Who is that girl you were dancing with?” Siger Holmes asked gruffly, while he chewed on his cigar.  
“Molly Hooper” Sherlock responded with a deadpan face, trying to hide any emotion.   
“She is very beautiful,” Siger commented before adding, “is that Mr. Hooper’s daughter?  My, she has grown up to be a lovely woman.”  
Both Sherlock’s and Mycroft’s heckles began to rise.  They knew what that meant, their father was intrigued by a new conquest, a new flavor of the week.  
“Father, you wouldn’t!” Sherlock exclaimed before closing his mouth quickly.  
“What did you say to me?” Siger asked dangerously, “By the way, don’t you have a fiancé?”   
Sherlock opened his mouth ready with a smart retort but was interrupted by his brother.  
 “Sit down Sherlock,” Mycroft said as he grabbed his brother’s shoulders.  He was schooled in negotiation, and here was another opportunity to show off his skills.   Sherlock protested for a moment, but soon gave into his brother’s request.  He sat down a chair before quickly hopping up in howling pain.

“GLASSES!” Sherlock yelled as he screamed in pain.


	4. There were gardeners to take care of the gardens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter, more coming

Molly wandered around the tennis courts recalling all those nights sitting up in the trees watching as Sherlock charmed beautiful socialites.  He danced with them around the tennis court, making them feel special.  He maybe a sociopath, but he was high functioning.  He knew the right things to say and do around someone he wanted to charm, whether the said person was male or female.  They would twirl around the dance floor, their bodies so close together, their cheeks touching.   Molly never realized he courted these people for other reasons.  They could grant him access to certain restricted areas, or they were a key link to a mystery he was trying to solve. There was always a means to an end for him, and he always got what he wanted.  He charmed his way into their hearts for a reason other than love.  All Molly saw was love and romance.      

 

She always had to drag herself away from watching due to the tears that would fill her eyes.  Now she was here, he was going to dance with her and twirl her around.  She wanted it to be perfect.  She wanted to laugh at his jokes and feel the wind around her while they spinned to a romantic song played by the band.  She couldn’t wait to taste the champagne that he had brought for her.  The glasses in the back pockets would be brought out and filled.  He would make a toast to them.  Maybe he would toast to their new found connection, or maybe the beautiful night. Maybe he would admit that he was wrong to ignore her for all these years and he would beg for her forgiveness.

 

She heard clinking of glasses coming towards the tennis court and found herself ferreting up the umpire seat that sat in the middle of the tennis court.  She was going to think of something clever to say when she saw him.  Maybe she would comment on the beautiful stars or the lovely band.  But to her shock and disappointment the man with the glasses was not Sherlock, but rather Mycroft Holmes.   
  
“What are you doing here?” Molly asked when she looked down at him from the umpire seat.  She looked past him hoping that she would see Sherlock in the distance making his way towards her.

 

“Sherlock sent me” Mycroft said to her as he placed the glasses down on a table and popped the champagne open.

“Isn’t he coming?” Molly asked still a little hopeful.

“Ah, Dr. Hooper, it seems he is… shall I say tied up with other matters at the moment”  
  
“And you are here to get rid of me” Molly responded plainly.  
“Nothing of the sort, Molly.  May I call you Molly”  
“Of course you can” she responded quickly, “but if you aren’t here to get rid of me, what are you doing here?”  
  


“Would you like a drink?” Mycroft asked lifting her glass and bringing it to her, “Why don’t you come down”

“No” she responded but still she climbed down the chair and took the glass.  

Mycroft eyed her as he took a small sip of the champagne.  Not too bad he thought before he set down his glass.

“I have a message from Sherlock” he told her as he took her untouched glass and placed it on the table next to his.

 

He took her hand and began dancing with her. In the background Molly heard the band play a slow song.  A perfectly romantic tune played while they silently moved around the empty tennis court.   

“Why couldn’t Sherlock come?” Molly asked him as Mycroft expertly twirled her around.  
“Well he found himself in a predicament with a set of champagne glasses, and now Dr. Watson is fixing him up”  
“Oh no!” Molly said dropping Mycroft’s hand, “Can I see him?”  
“He’s under lots of medication right now, it would be fruitless” Mycroft told her as he took her hands back into his and continued to twirl her around.

“Was there anything else to Sherlock’s message?” Molly asked hoping he had asked for her to call on him later.

“Ah yes” Mycroft said before hesitating slightly.  He leaned over and kissed her, which she quickly pulled away.   
“What are you doing?!” Molly spluttered at him.  
“Merely giving you the rest of his message” he responded emotionless.  He was answered with a good smack across the cheek.  Molly looked livid before she bolted out of the tennis court and towards the garage.

 

Mycroft didn’t touch his cheek or make any gesture towards his stinging cheek.  He knew he deserved the smack  He probably deserved more than she gave him.  He sighed before turning back towards the house.  He knew that he had to get rid of her, but he had too much respect for Hooper to just send her a blank check.  A plan would have to be formed for both Sherlock and Molly to come out unscathed, and hopefully his cheeks will escape further assault.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a note!


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